One evening of heat, unseasonal heat – it was late May – I was sitting in the book room with the window wide open, and I heard a tawny owl calling from the trees…
Edward Thomas’s ‘Owl’: missing a feather?
Three deaths
Sawn off, jut-jawed, tongue lolling, a fox muzzle lies on the path at the edge of the field, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand and easy to miss…